Duty Free Gift for the Traveler
by Ockermuller
Summary: SPOILERS to 6x22! Sam already has his hands full with Dean's epic gay love affair with an ex-god without Gabriel suddenly deciding he wants his own slice of hot Winchester. Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel
1. Theme for the Eulipions

_**Duty Free Gift for the Traveler**_

**Chapter: **1/?

**Beta:** Kodamasama. Livejournal: kodamasama(dot)livejournal(dot)com (thank you so much!)

**Pairings:** Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel.

**Rating:** PG-13 (it may go up in later chapters).

**Disclaimer:** These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.

**Spoilers:** Up until 6x22.

**Warnings:** undecided!Dean, hesitant!Cas, Mr. Fix-It!Sam, flirtatious!Gabriel, Bobby being Bobby.

Takes place right after 6x22, with a few changes (**prepare for spoilers**): Castiel kills Crowley, Sam's Wall is still there, and Balthazar is alive.

**Summary**: Sam already has his hands full with Dean's epic gay love affair with an ex-god without Gabriel suddenly deciding he wants his own piece of hot Winchester.

All chapters' names are from the album "The Return of the 5000 Lb Man", by Rahsaan Roland Kirk.

*º*º*

**Chapter 1:**** Theme for the Eulipions**

*º*º*

Sam can't breathe in fear that any movement will distract Castiel's attention from his brother. He wants to approach them, use his sweetest voice – the one he only uses for traumatized children – and help Dean convince the angel to return the souls he had taken.

But his words mean nothing to Castiel. Only Dean's ever do. It has always been about Dean, and if there's any hope of convincing the angel, his brother will be the one to pull it off.

A holy silver knife, the only weapon capable of killing an angel, lies next to Crowley's dead body, taunting him, daring him to do it. He can reach for it if he's careful - but then what? Kill the angel after everything they had been through?

And for what reason except Castiel is now too powerful and thus should be stopped from doing… what exactly? So far, he had finished off both Crowley and Raphael – the bad guys, last time he checked. Nothing that sounds like a threat had been made, and no evil had escaped Purgatory.

And that's exactly it. The door to Purgatory had been opened and nothing_ bad_ happened. Just like Castiel had promised.

The angel had asked for their trust, and they treated him like a monster. A monster that tortured, killed, and lied, just like… oh, _everyone else in that room_. The Great Wall of Sam is still intact, so who is to say _Sam_ hadn't gone around killing innocent people?

Sam had been in his shoes when he thought drinking demon blood to kill Lilith was the right thing to do. And he was forgiven by everyone around him, so why not give the angel forgiveness for his misguided actions?

How is Castiel any different from him?

"Cas…" Dean's voice is only a whisper, which Sam can barely make out from the distance between them. "It's over now. Raphael is gone; you've got to return those souls before the door closes, okay?"

Castiel doesn't seem to listen as his glassy eyes continue staring at the floor. Dean rests a hand on the angel's shoulder, and Bobby looks away. Sam's grateful the older hunter doesn't move from his spot next to him.

"Please, man." Castiel raises his head, his face only a few inches from Dean's. The hunter holds his gaze. "Just put the souls back where they belong. You're not yourself like this. Hm… So- okay, I get it, you did it for a 'greater good' or whatever; what's done is done. But the Cas I know wouldn't keep this up…"

Blue eyes stare in silence.

There's no air in the room, Sam can swear it, when Dean's other hand cups his angel's face. "You don't need all this power. You're better than this, Cas; let it go. We want you back, please…" He's a babbling mess, but this is too important for him to be self-conscious about it. "We miss you… I-I miss you… _so much, _Cas, please… we can be a team again…"

"You said we're no longer family."

Dean's face goes white. "C-Cas… I know I- I'm sorry, man!" With wet eyes, both hands hold Castiel's face with such a desperation it shakes Sam like it's being done to him. "I'm sorry, I don't fucking care what you did, what I… doesn't matter, okay! It's done, it's over, you're still family. C'mon, Cas! Jus- just give the souls back and we can- I will-" His voice is too low, and what 'he will' Sam can't hear.

The _thing_ that is Castiel at that moment takes Dean's right hand on his own and continues staring. Something tells Sam the angel's decision is the most important one of their lives, and what can be more important than saying 'yes' to Satan himself is beyond him.

Without daring to move, Sam prays and cries and screams inside his head, _Please, God, please, please, please, let this work, send someone, anyone, help us-_

God doesn't answer.

There's an eternity of whispered pleas and promises of devotion, and Sam believes they aren't just words to convince the angel, that surprisingly Dean actually means all of them. Castiel seems to believe the same, for he finally finds on Dean's face what he's been looking for.

"Okay." And with a flap of wings, he's gone.

The hunters are left alone in the middle of a room painted with Raphael's blood; the body that once belonged to the King of Hell lays forgotten.

Dean's mind fucked, Sam's flabbergasted, and Bobby's Bobby.

"'Okay'? '_Okay_?" The older hunter's fuming. "That's it? That damn idjit!"

"Do you think he really went to return those souls?" Sam asks his brother, the Castiel Specialist.

Dean sighs; he looks defeated and broken, just standing there as he cleans unshed tears from his eyes. "I don't know, Sammy."

"Do you think there's still time-"

"And what're we suppose to do in case he doesn't?" Bobby interrupts.

"I can't believe this actually worked-" Sam laughs in relief.

"Ya idjit, don't go jumping to conclusions. We gotta be on our guards."

"Dean?"

His brother is already walking away.

*º*º*

It takes them the entirety of the next day to tow the Impala to the farthest motel they can reach. Bribing the motel clerk to let three very dirty, very bruised, very _suspicious_ men in without rising a ruckus is also annoying since the hunters come in the exact moment the news report announces the bodies found by the police earlier that afternoon.

After a few hours following the on going story on CNN to find out if there are any security tapes that may lead back to them – apparently there are none - Bobby retires to his own room, leaving the brothers alone.

Dean looks more tired than Sam has ever seen him, and that's mind blowing in itself. They sit in silence for a few minutes before one of the many inevitable discussions they need to have finally catches up to them.

"…We should- the sigils…"

"No, Sam." Dean rubs fingers on his temple. "What if he comes looking for us, sees we've got angel protection, and thinks that we don't trust him… or something?"

_What if he comes looking for _you_, you mean_, Sam thinks – but decides not to share, seeing as it would lead them into another topic that was sure to make his brother lose his calm.

"But, Dean, we _don't_ trust him. I think he gets that by now-"

"After everything I said, if Cas really gave up all that power-" his voice breaks just a little, just enough for Sam to notice how much this is affecting him, "… if he comes here, he's gotta know he still has us, Sammy. I said he could be with us again, and I meant it."

"You know it doesn't work like that. We can't just pretend nothing happened."

"Yeah, but we've got to talk to him eventually, to know where he stands. Better now than… than… better now."

It's almost seven, and Sam can't remember the last time he slept; he blames his sleep-deprived mind for the words he says next, "He still has _you,_ Dean. For him, it's always been about you. I'm just here for the ride."

Which is kind of a pointless thing to say since it changes nothing and even sounds a little bit whiny. But Dean stays silent - he knows it to be true.

Dean had said they could all be a team again. Sam doesn't even know if he can be in the same room with Castiel again knowing he's the reason his body walked around soulless for so long.

*º*º*

The digital clock reads 3 AM when the sound of wings and air suddenly dislocating interrupts the silence in the motel room. That sound came to terrify Sam in the last few days, and it takes all his will power to close his eyes again and pretend to be asleep.

In a moment, his brother is already tossing away the covers; apparently, Sam hadn't been the only one unable to sleep after seeing an archangel exploded by sweet, little ol' Castiel. Having the Impala destroyed is never that much fun either, no matter how many times it happens. "Cas?"

"Hello, Dean." _This guy opened a door to Purgatory_, Sam has to remind himself, because that voice right there was too much like the old Cas who wouldn't hurt a fly, even less a soul.

"Hey." Dean sounds hopeful and out of breath. Their voices are low, and Sam's rising heartbeat in his ears doesn't help any. Sam takes a peek to find their shapes in the dark, standing in front of each other by the foot of the beds. "What's up? Everything okay?"

"Is Sam asleep?" Castiel asks.

Just in time, Sam remembers people actually breathe steadily when they sleep. He so doesn't want to talk to this guy right now… "Yeah, he went out like a rock the moment I turned off the lights." Said person rolls his closed eyes at that comment. "Why?"

"I came to say goodbye, Dean."

Sam's noise of surprise is only muffled by his brother's own hurt gasp.

"What do you-… Cas? What're you talking about?"

Castiel sighs. "I returned the souls, as you requested of me. Gabriel assisted me."

Sam feels the room go completely still. _Gabriel is alive? _The hunter didn't see how he actually died, but Dean's description of the whole thing was pretty clear on the fact the archangel died to help them.

"Gabriel? _That _Gabriel? He's alive?" Dean asks.

"When I arrived at Purgatory's Gates, he was there waiting for me. Gabriel said he doesn't know how it happened, only that one moment he just 'blinked into existence like Jack from Lost'… whatever that may mean." The low light filtered by the curtains is enough to make out Castiel's head tilt. Some things just don't change, Sam supposes. "I believe it's safe to assume my Father was responsible for this; He also engraved instructions on my brother's Grace."

If Sam wasn't already awake, he'd have been soon by Dean's raising voice. He never quite managed to keep a low tone when he was about to freak out. "What instructions? What's Gabriel got to do with you going somewhere? You can't leave, Cas-"

There's despair building up in Dean's voice, the type Sam had only heard when his brother realized the person they were trying to save wasn't going to make it. It was in that exact moment Sam knew Dean wouldn't let his angel go - whatever happened in the past year could just go fuck itself in the ass.

"Gabriel was instructed to hold the Gates open until I came back," Castiel says, voice failing miserably at keeping his usual monotone. "Now he has returned to Heaven and will restore order to the Host."

Dean snorts to show his skepticism, even though it comes out more of a hurt sound than anything else. "Oh, oh, and you're just going to trust _Gabriel _with that?"

"No, that's why I'll be joining him in his task, together with Balthazar. I wish to make sure his intentions are pure," Castiel says.

"Why the hell did God only resurrect Gabriel now that it's all over, and _we don't even need him anymore_?"

"I… do not know."

Dean looks furious, but Sam knows it's his natural reaction to heart break. "And what's up with all this crap? You're both Heaven's little bitches again? You wanna serve the same douche bag that put you through all of this in the first place?"

"Serve God once more? Not at all. I am… _tired_, Dean. And patience is no longer a virtue I can claim I possess."

Dean is about to protest, but the angel raises a hand to ask for his silence.

"I only came to try and explain myself once again. For some reason, the idea of leaving you with the misguided notion that-" Sam's eyes slowly grow used to the darkness, allowing him to see without a doubt that Castiel's arms are shaking, even if just a little. "I cannot leave before making my actions clear.

"Despite being accused by your brother of bringing him back soulless on purpose, I can assure you that was not the case. Sam is upset, and thinking I was responsible for his body… _condition_ gives him something very much akin to cruel satisfaction… But not you, Dean. I can't let you blame me for this too." He hesitates before revealing, "It hurts too much."

Dean touches his shoulder carefully, as if fearing the angel would fly off at the first brusque movement, and Cas leans into his personal space the exact way he used to – like Dean was gravity, and Cas could fight the pull no more than he could change his vessel's eye color.

"I tried… _so hard_. I thought I was strong enough, that Lucifer was probably fighting Michael inside the Cage, that maybe I could even save Adam Milligan also, if I was careful enough." Cas tells the story as if reading it from a book. Dean fists the cloth on Castiel's arms and then releases it, only to grab it again a second later, unable to control his hands. "But Lucifer was as strong as ever, and he would not let go of Sam even if it cost him his life. I almost had my wings ripped apart when I finally banished Lucifer out of your brother's body. However, before I took flight, Michael grabbed Sam's leg-"

"He grab- _What_?" Both Winchesters are shocked.

"Yes, I was confused also. Yet a second later, he just… released it." Castiel takes a deep breath. "At the time, my Grace was bleeding out of this vessel, and both my brothers were trying to prevent me from leaving the Cage; I believe they knew it wouldn't be long before I was too weak to take the long flight out of Hell with my damaged wings.

"I flew as fast as I could, feeling victorious as I held Sam's body in my arms. I didn't give Michael much thought." Castiel sighs regretfully. "When I realized my mistake, it was already too late. I waited for Sam to seek you out on his own, but when he finally did, nothing happened. Sam only stared at you outside the house you were living in."

"_Lisa's_?" Dean asks perplexed.

Castiel nods. "He looked… different and wrong. Of course, I also hadn't realized he was soulless. I only thought that… I don't know what I thought."

"Why didn't you tell me? Sam was out there doing shit, Cas, and you didn't have the decency to stop by and let me know?"

This seems to get a reaction out of the angel. Castiel lightly pushes Dean back - the notion that this creature could punch his brother to Germany if he was in the mood terrifies Sam.

"And tell you what? That you had to be miserable again and take care of the _abomination_ that was your soulless brother? So that you could then hate me for my incompetence at making you happy, all because I was too selfish to accept you were already happy without me?"

Dean takes a step back. Castiel takes one forward. "Cas… What're you talking about? Just, slow down-"

"I love Sam. I do. The entire time I fought to free him from Hell I kept telling myself I was doing it for him - and ultimately you. But now I see I was doing it for myself."

The angel grabs Dean's arms so the hunter can't step away again, pulling him closer. Sam sighs. It's official, they're both talking about a person they completely forgot was in the room with them.

"You were somewhat happy, Dean, and I had no place in your new life. I couldn't demand you to give it all up so you'd make my problems your own and live a miserable life on the road without your brother. But if Sam came back for you…"

The shape in the darkness that Sam assumes is his brother tries unsuccessfully to free himself from the angel's grasp, much like a shitty movie damsel who yells, 'no' before pulling the other character in for a kiss. They both stop to contemplate the almost nonexistent space between their lips, Dean's ragged breath filling up the room. Which is just fantastic - Dean getting aroused by being manhandled by Castiel is the cherry on top of Sam's surreal life.

"I watched you, at least in the beginning before my confrontation with Raphael. You smiled, but it never reached your eyes. You acted like you always do, and yet your actions were shallow and your words devoid of your usual passion." Castiel strokes the side of the hunter's face lightly, letting his hand fall away when it reaches his chin. "I suspected that perhaps you weren't as happy as we both believed you to be. But again, I had nothing to offer you. So I- I convinced myself I was helping free you from a dull life without hunting and without Sam."

Castiel lets go of Dean completely but remains inside his personal space.

"Now I see I might have deceived myself into believing this. Maybe you were truly happy, and I just couldn't accept it," the angel says, finally.

And now it's over. Castiel had explained his side of the story, although at three in the morning when they're all so tired Sam can't even bring himself to come up with a metaphor as to how much. The angel can be on his way before anyone can think of stopping him.

"I wasn't…" Dean almost sobs and it breaks Sam's heart, "I wasn't, like… _truly_ happy, or some shit like that. I was so dead, Cas. Thinking Sammy was in hell, what they could be doing to him-"

His voice dies down.

Sam knows how that feels – knowing with absolute certainty your brother's in Hell while you're powerless to help him, always wondering what horrifying creatures were doing to him and never getting an answer.

"But it wasn't just him," Dean continues. "I missed you, you know? Ben is amazing; I really wish he was my kid… but he isn't. A-and Lisa! She's just… not _you_. Don't even ask me how the fuck _that_ happened, but I just wanted you so bad, Cas! To pray for you and hit the road and just… _have you_. But I promised Sam I would stay at Lisa's to play house, and you had your own stuff-"

Castiel's lips prevent Dean from babbling on further, and Sam loves him for it. Anyone who can shut Dean Winchester up deserves respect.

Sam closes his eyes, caught by surprise at how natural it feels to be in the room while his brother gently kisses Castiel. He never felt comfortable seeing his brother get the girl at the end of the day - hell, he can't even keep a straight face when a gay couple kisses on TV. Yet, somehow, this moment feels right. Probably because Castiel is family, and he just witnessed with his own eyes how much Dean wanted him to stay that way.

He opens his eyes, amazed at his own thoughts. _Cas is still family…_

Cold, horrible regret wraps itself around Sam's chest. Dean hadn't been happy with Lisa, hadn't loved her, hadn't wanted a life with her. He'd been in love with Castiel the entire time. When had he even figured that one out? How come Sam dismissed all evidences of their feelings for each other as brotherly love, tucking away their interaction as a slight attraction that meant nothing and would lead nowhere?

_God,_ his brother is in love.

With his male angel.

Dean's angel. There was never any doubt in his mind that, even if his brother denies Castiel being his angel, Dean is certainly Castiel's human.

And Sam is the stupid, screw-up brother who sent Dean to live with the wrong person. The sudden urge to fix everything almost makes Sam jump from his bed and hold on to Dean like a needy child crushing a teddy bear to his chest. It's a good thing he doesn't, though, since his brother would probably have a big gay freak out right after finally growing some balls to confess feelings – merciful God,_ feelings_ – for his angel.

"What about Sam?" Castiel steps back to ask.

"What about Sammy?" Dean pulls him to his chest again like that answers it.

What about him indeed. You know, the guy everyone talks about but no one seems to remember exists, all at the same time.

"What if he doesn't want me here? After everything that's happened, I can't blame him," the angel is gasping, overwhelmed by the intimacy of Dean's lips. "I don't want him to hate me-"

It isn't the brotherly love confession from earlier, nor the long explanation on how his body came to be soulless – hell, not even the fact the angel will finally make his brother happy, and Dean fucking deserves it. It's that sentence right there, muffled by kisses and carrying so much fear, that wins Sam over.

"It's gonna be fine, Cas." Dean laughs fondly. "We'll talk to him; of course he wants you to stay."

And Sam does. He just wants all the hurt to be over…

"Tell Gabriel it's gonna be a half-period gig, 'kay?" The shape of hands in the dark caress Castiel's face with care. "Can you do that, Cas? Leave the manual labor to Gabe and get a desk job or something?"

The angel is apparently too dazzled to try and figure out what all that means. "I don't understand…"

"Cas." The angel is encircled by strong arms in a desperately tight embrace. Dean's voice is breathless and deep, travelling easily around the room to Sam's ears. "Stay with me."

It could have been a request, a suggestion, or even an order, but Sam hears it as the plea it really is; so does Cas. "_Yes._" The sound of a low, needy moan and the outline of Dean's hands squeezing his angel's arms are strong indications Castiel is an enthusiastic kisser, like a kid who had a taste of a delicious candy and now can't settle for only one. "_Yes_, Dean," Cas whispers again, planting wet, sloppy kisses on the hunter's lips, ripping out desperate little gasps from Dean that reveal just how much he really wants the angel to stay.

Despite the red painting his cheeks, Sam smiles under the covers. Who needed television when you could just watch the epic gay love story of an angel and his human?

Dean finally palms Castiel's face to rest their foreheads together for what had to be one of the most romantic gestures he had ever witnessed his brother partaking in.

Dean has Sam, Dean has Cas, and the world is – relatively – saved. Everyone can finally be gay and happy, with the exception of Sam who is neither of those things and needs to buy popcorn for the next episode of the soul opera he titled 'Destiel'. Gabriel will keep Heaven under control and Cas, sweetly naive Cas, ex- soul addict Cas, will make it all possible.

The hunter steals one more heated kiss before letting go.

"See, Cas, we don't walk out on family."

*º*º*

TBC


	2. Goodbye Pork Pie Hat

_**Beta:**__ The awesome Kodamasama. LiveJournal: kodamasama(dot)livejournal(dot)com_

_Thank you sooooo much for the wonderful comments here, on LiveJournal and DeviantArt! You guys make my day!_

*º*º*

**Chapter 2:**** Goodbye Pork Pie Hat**

*º*º*

When Dean gets out of the shower in the morning, Sam does his best to pretend he just woke up, even though he'd actually spent the last four hours pondering his decision, thinking about Gabriel's resurrection, and rehearsing his reactions to the unavoidable conversation he's about to have with his brother and the angel who just saved humanity - against their efforts to stop him.

"Morning, Dean." Sam makes a show out of stretching himself. "Get any sleep?"

"Not much. I had to talk to Bobby before he went back to his place a couple of hours ago," Dean says. He looks rested for a guy who hasn't slept in a few days – Sam wonders if Castiel's kisses have restorative properties and makes sure to remember this question for future teasing.

Sam takes the moment he's washing his face to casually ask, "Any news from Castiel?"

Silhouettes kissing in the dark come to mind, and Sam's afraid of turning around in case the expression on his face screams what he saw the night before.

"Yeah, actually. He's in Heaven right now, but I'm calling him after you take your shower." Dean sits on his bed with an impatient sigh. "We sort of need to talk to you."

And it's already time for Sam to start his act. Raising his eyebrows, he contorts his face in a mixture of confusion and concern. "Is everything alright, Dean?"

"Sure, Sammy, everything's cool. It's just some stuff we got to sort out, you know?" His brother gives him a weak smile and absently turns on the TV.

By the time Sam comes out of the bathroom, Castiel is already sitting with Dean on his bed, elbows resting on his knees in a way that makes him look less like an angel and more like the man whose meat suit he's wearing - someone capable of feelings, vulnerable to heartbreak. Castiel is here looking for Sam's approval, and he won't be disappointed.

"Hello, Sam." The angel looks at Dean for support only to find green eyes staring at the floor.

Not awkward at all. "Hey." He sits on his own bed with a serious expression. "Dean said you guys have things we need to talk about?"

And they talk, starting with the fight in the Cage. The long explanation is made up mostly of Castiel narrating events in his usual way - like he's reading them from a book, with Dean interrupting every so often to show he's in on all of this.

Sam nods the entire time, taking notice of the space between his brother and the angel. Something so important as the story on how Robot Sam came to be seems inconsequential next to the fact that, once the story is finished, Dean's coming out of the closet.

He coughs to hide a chuckle before it escapes without his consent.

"Okay," Sam clears his throat, "I think I get it now."

"I am sorry, Sam." And Castiel really is.

"Well, doesn't matter anymore, Cas. I don't blame you." He smiles to comfort the angel, (.) "Let's try to put this behind us."

"But I've done regrettable things." The reluctance in accepting that no one is holding it against him makes Sam wonder if Castiel believes he should be blamed and punished for what he did. There's so much sorrow in his voice there's nothing Dean can do to stop his hand from reaching for Castiel's shoulder, trying to comfort him but too ashamed to do so in front of someone else.

"Haven't we all?"

The silence accompanying that statement sends each individual to a different part of their past. Sam's is filled with demon blood and what may or may not be brief glimpses of memories from Robot Sam or phantom pain from his time in Hell.

Dean coughs, dragging all attention to him. "There's one more thing we need to tell you."

Sam had expected his brother to reach out and hold the angel's hands, or at least move in a little closer to him. It feels like a natural human reaction to seek that sort of contact when delivering to your family the news that you're getting together with your angelic stalker.

But Dean doesn't move, and Castiel doesn't know any better.

"There has been a new development in my relationship with your brother."

"Okay." Sam waits patiently for someone to go on.

It suddenly comes to mind how much Dean and Cas resemble a married couple sitting there together, worried expressions on their handsome faces as they try to explain something very complicated to their children.

The conclusion that Sam's probably the kid in this relationship doesn't make him feel warm inside.

Castiel is clearly passing Dean the ball to claim their relationship whatever he wants, for he just looks at him and waits.

"Dean." His brother's rigid posture and hands rubbing against each other don't go unnoticed - Sam is suddenly very much afraid Dean's tendencies to screw things up will end up doing just that. "If this is important to you, then it's important to me. But you have to _say it_."

Because having Dean say the words is crucial. How does he expect to have a long term relationship if he can't even admit it to his most important family member?

"We're sort of together now," Dean confesses, avoiding everyone's eyes. The angel is clearly afraid he'll be rejected by his brother-in-law, while Dean is downright uneasy from just being there.

Something isn't right here. It's a good thing Sam watched their interaction the night before; otherwise, he would assume his brother was pretending to love Castiel to keep everyone safe from a homicidal maniac of an angel turned god.

It's horrible how possible that'd be, for his brother to actually pretend to love someone to 'save the world'.

However, he did watch the way they held each other so urgently, how his brother enjoyed all the clumsy wet kisses the angel had to offer, Castiel's hands touching Dean's face with something akin to fascination…

"Like, romantically?" He doesn't have to double check, of course, but a little authenticity doesn't hurt anyone.

"Yeah, but- but! I'm not gay-" Dean says hastily, a little louder than necessary. It's great his boyfriend is an angel who doesn't know he should probably feel hurt or even angry over Dean getting all defensive about his sexuality. "You know I'm a ladies man. It just… happened. And it's only Cas."

"It's okay, dude. You don't have to be one or the other; maybe you're just bi-"

"_No, man_! I mean, I don't feel like this for other guys, just Cas." Dean sighs, frustrated, getting worked up about it. "I'm… _angel-sexual_! Yes, that's it."

"Dean, that is not a word," Castiel kindly informs him.

"It is now, 'cause I'm not gay." Dean grins cheekily, although he's still the only one in the room distressed by labels.

"It is pointless to discuss your sexuality, for I'm neither man nor woman."

"See, that's why 'angel-sexual'." And Dean nods happily like that concludes it. "Totally not gay."

_Of course not, Dean. You just want to have hot man-sex with Cas for the rest of your life, maybe even cuddle a little. How would that make you gay?_

"Dean, dude, it's okay. Gay or not, doesn't really matter. I can see you guys care about each other, and I guess that's enough for me, even if you just got together and what, you're still trying to figure stuff out?" Sam tries his best to put emotion in his words as he smiles. "I'm fine with it; I'm just worried about Bobby."

Ah yes, Bobby. Sam could image that conversation. _Hey, Bobby! Remember the guy who killed your ex-girlfriend? Well, you see, we now decided that he's good, and we absolved him of all his crimes. If you can just go along with it, that'd be great, thanks._

"Because of the gay th- _I mean_, the angel-human thing?"

"Dean, Bobby cared a lot about Eleanor. You saw how angry he was. He won't just accept everything like 'this'!" Sam snaps his fingers.

"If it's worth anything, I only planned to get part of her blood. She would have lived if it wasn't for Crowley stabbing her the moment I was gone." Castiel says it so matter-of-factly it makes Sam wince.

Eleanor had hinted at being tortured by both Crowley and Castiel. Two days ago, the very idea of that poor woman suffering like that made his skin crawl and hatred for the angel rise in his chest.

Two days ago, he didn't know his brother had actual feelings for said angel.

Sam almost feels sick putting his brother's happiness over the cruel fate an innocent had to suffer in the hands of the one who would bring said happiness.

"Maybe if we try to explain things to Bobby-" But Dean doesn't sound convinced by his own words.

"No, I take it back," Sam interrupts. "Bobby won't like it, but it doesn't matter."

Dean looks confused. "What do you mean it doesn't matter? He's like-"

"I know what he's like to us, Dean. But this is your chance at being with someone you actually care about – and this time you don't have to give up your life as a hunter to be with them." Sam smiles, trying to reassure his brother. "So no, Bobby doesn't have to accept it; he only has to respect you for it."

"That's more than I can ask for." Castiel sounds honestly relieved.

"And who knows, maybe he'll forgive Cas one day! Actually hear his side of the story." For whatever reason, he senses the mood switches from 'tragic' to 'hilarity' in a second, and Sam isn't about to lose this opportunity. "Maybe he'll forgive him enough to attend your big-ass gay wedding at the beach."

There's a pause, and Sam can hear the sentence sink into Dean's mind.

"Oh, _Hell no_, you're not going there-" Dean turns red as he puffs up his chest in typical douche bag, macho man behavior. It's endearing.

"Dean and I have not discussed marriage arrangements as of yet," Castiel informs them.

Sam blinks. Dean looks like he's about to pass out.

"Dude, _no_! We're not- He wasn't-"

Castiel smiles shyly. "Did I do it right? Was this a 'prank'?"

_Damn_, his brother will have his hands full with this one. Sam has a feeling he and Castiel will have a lot of fun teaming up in the future.

"Cas! Did you just-" Dean starts to babble, and Sam almost wishes Castiel would shut him up like the night before. "Okay, people! Let's get this straight - no one here is gay, and no one here is getting married."

"I don't know, man. You have to get married in order to adopt." Sam smirks.

"I believe I'd enjoy children a great deal." Castiel tilts his head. He might be serious.

Maybe it's Dean's horrified face or the glee in Castiel's blue eyes, but Sam can't help laughing. "Stick around, Cas. We could use your help and… we like you. Really…"

_Just don't go around torturing people anymore, pretty please…?_

"Then you can find it in yourself to forgive me?" The angel sobers up immediately.

"Cas, don't sweat it! We're all martyrs here, and we have all done stuff we regret for the sake of the people we love." Sam grins. "Congrats, now you're an official member of the family."

Dean laughs so suddenly and so loudly it startles Sam. He looks genuinely relieved as he pats a somewhat perplex angel on the back. "There we go! This heart to heart was brought to you by Kodak." He winks at Cas and squeezes his shoulder until blue eyes meet green in a meaningful look Sam has seen one too many time. "I told you everything will be fine."

Cas smiles as if trying to mimic something he saw on TV, although Dean looks happy enough at his attempt at humanity. "I'm sure it will."

Yeah, judging by the fact they didn't even hug or kiss, the only thing _Sam_ is sure of is that the eye-fucking was about to reach epic proportions…

*º*º*

And Sam was not wrong in the slightest.

Four times Sam enters their motel room to find Dean_ too_ focused on cleaning the guns and folding his clothes – actually _folding his clothes _– while Castiel stands by his side awkwardly, just staring at him. A child who wants attention and doesn't know how to ask for it.

Three times Sam gets out of the shower to find Dean happily explaining human trivia about food, guns, TV shows, and all the reasons detective shows suck. All the time maintaining respectful distance between them, like the perfect gentleman he isn't. Castiel sits by his side and stares. Stalkerishly.

Not to mention the good ol' eye-fucking.

And Sam's being serious here – the eye-fucking is to be respected, for it's the only moment they actually look at each other.

Stupid brothers and their frickin' angels who can't get their heads out of their asses…

*º*º*

Sam never forgets about Bobby and the promise they make to come back for the holidays.

Dean explains things are okay with Cas now, no more plans of world – Heaven? – domination. The older hunter doesn't ask him to elaborate and so no one does.

If he knows about Dean and Cas, he never says. So they fix the impala and leave.

As his brother starts the car, Sam feels like he's betraying his father figure on some level. The feeling only lasts until Castiel pops up in the back seat, and Dean grins, turning up the volume. "Cas, check this out: it's called 'Highway to Hell'."

"Dean, there's no such thing."

His brother laughs, and that's all Sam is asking for.

*º*º*

Eventually, Dean teaches Cas how to hold and shoot a gun, going so far as taking him on simple hunts and holding still when a ghost comes in their direction so that Castiel can, well, give it a shot.

But not on most dangerous hunts, the ones where Dean really gets hurt and the angel insists on tagging along 'just in case'.

"Dude, if you go Rambo on everything that goes bump in the night, we're out of job here."

"Then I won't heal you," Cas argues. "Otherwise, you just assume I'll tend to your wounds, and you become careless."

Dean would – in a masculine manner - pout and then Cas would heal Dean while he was asleep anyways. Because children are cute like that.

*º*º*

At exactly ten PM, Castiel mutters, "I'll be back tomorrow, Dean," and waits for something, maybe a repetition of the plea for the angel to stay from that first night. All he gets is a, "Bye, Cas. Don't knock over any planes on your way up," and one more minute of eye-fucking.

Most of the time Cas remembers Sam exists and turns around to say goodbye. Unless Dean's in a good mood. On these occasions, his brother tends to smile, and Cas possibly forgets there are other people in the room, leaving in a hurry to finish his business upstairs and come back to his humans ASAP.

Those are good nights. On bad nights, usually after a hunt when they get thrown against a tree/lamppost/wall/car/hobo, Dean is cold and distant. Combining that with Cas not being very good at handling negative emotions concerning Dean, there's only so much Castiel can take of his sudden change in behavior before he leaves without a word, only coming back around noon the next day.

Sam absolutely hates those nights when all the sulking occurs. "Do you think he's okay? Maybe I should call-"

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam covers his ears with the covers. "If you don't want him upset, stop being a dick!"

"What if he doesn't come back tomorrow?" His brother whispers, and Sam can see this is one of his biggest fears – driving Castiel away.

"Then you call him and apologize."

But Castiel always comes back. And Dean apologizes the Winchester way. "Hey, Cas! Say, you ever ate chocolate ice cream?"

At first the angel tilts his head in confusion at yet another change in behavior, but probably catalogues it as Dean being human and goes to see what this 'icy scream' is.

Or maybe Castiel just can't get mad when Dean's smiling directly at him. Sam came to realize angels are total romantics like that.

But the cycle keeps repeating itself over and over, until a month goes by, and Castiel is acquainted with chocolate/vanilla/pineapple/banana/strawberry/raspberry/pecan/cherry and the angel's favorite, Dark Chocolate - even though he tells Dean his favorite is chocolate with banana because it's cheaper, Sam knows better.

Bottom line: they aren't happy. Not even close. Not even _trying_.

How could two people who he once saw kissing with such a passion that made him re-think his opinions just up and decide to be completely awkward around each other?

It's not like they have to jump straight to the physical part of their relationship because that's not what Sam is suggesting. Due to the fact their story is a classic 'boy-meets-angel', it's even advisable to develop some emotional foundation first - or maybe Sam needs to stop watching Dr. Phil.

He really doesn't want to butt in. Honestly! It's got nothing to do with him, after all. But watching them acting like embarrassed teens is just ridiculous.

"Hey, Cas?" Sam sits next to the angel on the squeaky sofa of their newest motel room. "Hm… I want you to know - I'm happy you're with us more often now."

Castiel turns his head from the television in Sam's direction like a robot. "Thank you, Sam. I'm happy to be here as well." And his head goes back to its initial position.

"Er…" He needs to get this guy a 'How to Understand Humans for Dummies'. Or maybe not, since Castiel will probably learn that meddling is uncool and that Sam is an old lady with nothing better to do than being a busybody. "I don't want to intrude in your relationship with my brother… but I was just, hm, wondering if you want some advice?"

"What type of advice?" Castiel looks back at him shyly, and Sam realizes the angel knows exactly what type he's talking about.

"Well, you guys are together and everything… Have you kissed yet?"

Nope, preparing yourself for the conversation doesn't make it any less painfully embarrassing.

"I thought humans didn't talk about their siblings' romantic relationships?"

"Oh, believe me, we don't! At least this family doesn't. But I want to help you since my brother is a clueless idiot." _And you're hopeless_, he adds in his mind. "Feel free to spare me the details."

Castiel hesitates for a minute. "We've kissed, yes. When he asked me to stay." He pauses, obviously going back to that moment. Sam clears his throat. "Hm? Oh… But not since then… I believe I would enjoy doing it again."

"But you don't know how?" Sam asks.

"I'm afraid not. Dean is reluctant to start physical contact with me."

"Okay," Sam scratches the back of his head, "how about you just ask him?

"Just ask him?" Castiel tastes the advice on his tongue.

"Preferably when I'm not around," Sam agrees.

And finally – _finally_ Jesus, thank you! – the next day Sam opens the door to find both of them laying on Dean's bed, Castiel half-leaning over him and kissing the Hell out of the compliant hunter. However, as everything good in life, it only lasts the two seconds it takes for Dean to realize that hey, Sammy is here, and push the angel away from him.

The confusion all over Castiel's face quickly turns to realization, rejection, and lastly, cold understanding.

In a space of ten seconds, impressive! _Why did I ever think he was emotionless?_ Sam thinks as Castiel takes flight. He has already catalogued at least five types of hurt expressions on the angel's face since he and Dean started 'dating'.

Now, if only Dean would give him a happy one for a change…

*º*º*

It comes a day Sam is afraid of opening the door.

Since almost every time he does, his brother and the angel are making out, and Sam doesn't know which is more awkward – catching his brother clinging to some guy while being thoroughly kissed, or the awkward mood afterwards when Dean stops their activities, even if Sam promptly leaves again.

At least Castiel doesn't run away anymore. No, now he has this annoyed slash hurt expression on his face that totally says – 'oh, it's you, why did you come back?"

Until Sam can take no more of the sexual frustration that threatens to asphyxiate him. "Dean, if you want me to get another room, I really don't mind. It doesn't have to be awkward."

"No, I don't want him to think he has to do something, you know?" He sighs. "If you just up and get a different room he'll get the wrong idea and end up doing stuff he's not ready for."

Hm, yeah, maybe that makes sense a little – for about five minutes. Castiel has been watching way too many sitcoms in his frantic learning of human interactions – 'Two and a Half Men' being the one both brothers dreaded the most, changing channels before Charlie Harper has the chance to make a booby joke that will raise questions no one's willing to answer – so he may or may not pick up on a few of the hints humans toss around when they're planning to get laid.

Even so, in Sam's opinion, Castiel looked more than eager to spend some quality alone time with his hunter. Of course, Sam's company is welcomed by the angel, who goes to Sam for advice when Dean decides to be an incoherent mess of pop culture references, but there's no mistaking the looks Castiel sends his way by nightfall – ones that say, 'I want your brother naked, please go away'.

And he does. But nothing changes.

Dean's little speech about making sure his angel doesn't feel pressured like a high school girl on Prom night sounds the same as, 'please man, don't leave me alone with him; he'll eat me alive!'

*º*º*

It happens again and again, and Sam can only take one more week before cracking again. Dragging his brother to the nearest bar, he makes sure Dean has a few shots of tequila before asking again if he wanted Sam to get another room.

"Sam, he's a virgin, and I learned my lesson in that whore house. I'm taking things slow with him." Dean looks up, gazing at the infinity of the bar's filthy ceiling, and Sam wonders if he actually believes his own BS. "I'm gonna show him the little stuff first so he can get used to physical contact before we go to deeper stuff."

_Yes, then why is your boyfriend the only one with some initiative here?_ "Did you ask him what _he_ wants?"

"I prefer this also." Castiel is standing beside their table. The guy is sneaky, even if he walks through the door first. "I've seen Dean's past behavior towards his sex partners. I do not wish to be a 'one night stand'."

The angel takes the seat next to his boyfriend's – because that's how Sam sees their relationship, despite everything – and all but shivers when Dean presses his lips against his ear. Sam is too shocked by his brother's first display of affection towards Castiel in public to remember it's rude to stare.

"Cas," Dean whispers cheerfully, and Sam will have to drive because _damn,_ his brother is drunk, "even if we have sex like, today, you'll still mean much more to me than a random fuck in a sleazy bar."

Sam hides his face behind his huge hands. His brother, the eternal romantic.

Blue eyes brighten a little. "So you would not treat me as one of the woman you used to pick up from bars?"

"Never, Cas." To prove his point, Dean kisses him on the cheek and – God forbid– _giggles_. Later on he'll try to call it coughing, but Sam knows what he heard.

"Oh, I see." The angel pauses, thinking. "Does this mean we can have sex right now?"

Dean chokes on his drink, which probably means 'no', but Sam gets another room for the night anyways because he's an optimist like that.

But of course they don't. It would only make _sense_ for two people who like each other to have sex, and no one wants _that._

*º*º*

After that, Castiel keeps showing up with Dean's favorite beer for unknown reasons to the hunter - "He's just being a good angel," he tells Sam – but totally obvious ones to everyone else.

Dean isn't exactly a happy drunk, but he's definitely prone to physical contact after his third beer or so. Information Castiel uses in his favor, sitting close to him on the sofa, ecstatic, as one arms slips around the angel's shoulders and stays there.

Never mind this is basically Castiel's version of getting Dean drunk to get into his pants, and when Sam tries to tell him, Castiel is all sadness and puppy eyes.

"It's not good for people to get drunk every night, Cas."

"I know." His voice is so strained, Sam almost doesn't hear what he says next. "But he doesn't allow me close to him unless he is."

This has to stop.

*º*º*

He tries a direct approach again – because the Winchesters are nothing but stubborn sons of bitches. "Why are you doing this to him?"

"What's that?" Dean stops digging, confused.

"You know what I'm talking about." And he does, for Dean goes from baffled to defensive in a heartbeat.

"Sam, this is none of your business." He opens the coffin and salts the rotten body in a hurry to get away from his nosy giant of a brother.

"Dean, there's no reason to be all ashamed about it. I already said I'll get another room; you don't have to cuddle with the guy in front of people if it makes you like this!" Sam feels a headache coming. "Why do you care so much about other people seeing you together?"

Because that's the truth. Dean doesn't touch Castiel if other people are in the room, not even Sam – only when he's very close to drunk.

"Like I give two fucks about what anyone thinks," he growls while lighting a match to the corpse.

"Then what's your problem?" Sam yells.

"I'm working out how to have gay sex here, Sam! You know, that little thing I've only been disgusted by my whole life?" Dean shouts, throwing his shovel against a headstone. "Give me a break, man!"

For the entirety of the week, Sam feels embarrassed and guilty that he actually tried to push his brother to jump into sex he wasn't ready for. However, by the time the whole process starts again – Castiel all but moans in the back of his throat at any form of physical contact he can get from Dean, sucking his warmth as if he'll die without it - it doesn't feel all that unreasonable to pry again.

He just doesn't know how to approach this anymore.

*º*º*

Luckily – or not - Gabriel decides Heaven is boring and he wants in on all the fun.


	3. I'll Be Seeing You

_**Beta:**__ The awesome Kodamasama. LiveJournal: kodamasama(dot)livejournal(dot)com_

_Thank you for the wonderful feedback! You guys are awesome!_

*º*º*

**Chapter 3:**** I'll Be Seeing You**

*º*º*

They are all over the place. Sadly, that includes Sam.

He wakes up to Dean teaching Castiel how to make pancakes the way he likes them, because Dean already came to the conclusion that the angel has nothing to compare stuff to and will automatically like anything he likes. By the way they are looking at each other, Sam figures it's going to be a good day.

Until Cas leans in to give him a peck on his cheek – something a character did on a chick-flick he and Sam were watching the night before. Dean completely freaks out - the entire package complete with taking two steps back, wide eyes, and rubbing the place where lips met skin.

Sam notices he has a problem when he knows his day will suck solely because Cas is capable of romantic gestures while Dean has the emotional plenitude of a spoon. When has his life become all about someone else's relationship?

They stop talking to each other.

A few days later, Dean is sitting on the couch throwing Castiel anxious glances, as if expecting a hug or a kiss that is not coming anymore. Sam is expecting that too since – starting a few weeks ago - 6 PM is the hour Cas proclaimed as 'us time' – basically, the moment he takes his rightful place beside Dean and snuggles next to him, not caring if Sam is there or not.

Seeing how he can't scream and throw the TV out the window but also can't just stay there and do nothing, the youngest Winchester grabs his brother by the shoulders and threatens to flee to Mexico until the economy improves unless Dean makes things right again.

So, the next morning they're okay again – as okay as they get, anyways.

Until stuff happens, and they are not okay. For the nth time.

Sam stops trying to keep track of it. It's all headache inducing, really.

Finally, one morning they are ordering coffee, and Dean - out of nowhere - declares it fundamental they head to New York. Sam comforts himself by thinking they're at least breaking the routine somewhat.

It all starts with a cashier just being polite. "Do you want cream in your coffee, sir?"

"Oh… I don't know. Let me ask Dean." Cas turns around. "Do I want cream in my coffee, Dean?"

Maybe it's all the symbolism in that moment, what with Castiel giving up Godhood for Dean and being dependent on his opinion, that makes Dean speechless for a moment, looking at the angel like he just realized he's there. Sam likes to think the magnitude of their weird-ass relationship just bitch slapped him in the face.

Dean fidgets. "Ah- hm- well, do _you_ want it, Cas? You don't have to ask me."

"But I don't know what cream is for," he states calmly.

"It's something to make your coffee sweeter."

"I see." Castiel nods. "Do I want my coffee sweeter?"

"Dude, this is something you gotta figure out for yourself-"

"You know what, maybe you should try it, just for a change." Sam hands a bill to the cashier, who is looking at them like they are a particular flavor of crazy, and tugs them out of line.

Dean is strangely silent as they wait for their order.

"You seem upset again," the angel points out, looking upset himself.

Looking back on it, maybe Sam should have started being wary the moment Dean crosses his arms on his chest and looks at the floor for no particular reason. It means he's _thinking _- and last time he did that when they were not on a case, Sam had to bail him out. "Cas, do you eat when you're not with us?"

His head tilts. It is so _Cas_, Sam hopes he'll never stop doing that. "Why would I do that?"

"Dude…" Dean murmurs to himself, "You don't know anything about _food_."

"And?" Sam asks with a frown.

"And, Sammy! This shit need to be fixed. We're going to New York"

Hm, because yeah, that's the natural progression of this conversation.

*º*º*

And so they begin slowly making their way to New York. Because New York has food. Yay?

"There's Little Italy - really good pasta, and this place on Lower East Side where they sell _knishes_ – I think that's the name anyway. I don't remember where the Greek restaurants are, but they are out there somewhere."

"That's very cultural of you, Dean," Sam teases. "And what are we supposed to do _between_ meals?"

"You guys can geek it out in some museums or something. Take the grand tour downtown while I take a nap." The hunter grins, looking genuinely happy for once. Sam decides to shut up. It's the beginning of November - they can make it to the Big Apple and back to Bobby in time for Christmas.

Cas doesn't try to argue with his human anymore. If Dean wants to drive for weeks on end just so they can spend a few days walking around downtown New York, he'll humor him by not insisting on how pointless all the driving is. At least time on the road means they can partake in their new favorite - and only - merry activity together: Guess What Song It Is.

Or what Sam likes to call it: Guess What Song It Is Even Though We Listen to the Same Stuff Everyday Over and Over Again So It's Fucking Obvious What Song It Is At This Point.

"C'mon, Cas, I know you like this one." Dean turns it up, bobbing his head to the rhythm.

"'Whole Lotta Love'. It's my favorite guitar solo." The angel gives him this small, honest smile that Sam has entitled 'this is something I saw on TV once, but I shall use it all the time because it makes you happy'.

Right on cue the hunter beams. "Really? You hear that, Sammy? Cas has a favorite _guitar solo_!"

Sam rolls his eyes. They can't get to New York soon enough.

*º*º*

Just because Dean and Cas decide to spend their days hiding inside their love cocoon of classic rock doesn't mean Sam stops doing his job.

"Check this out." He hands Dean the newspaper.

The head line reads, 'Five Killed in Wayne National Forest'. "That's way south from here, right?"

"Keep on reading," Sam says.

"Only survivor, Jake Carper, claims the attacker was 'a guy with flaming hair'." He raises an eyebrow. "…Okay, this should be interesting."

Castiel shows up as the brothers load the car. "Hey, Cas. Hop in." And the angel does, without needing to ask where they are going or why. Sam muses over where else he would go. "We think there's a hunt south of here."

"I see." Castiel sounds tired, and they worry a little even though a worn out Cas isn't anything new these days.

"Dude, what's with the long face? We're still going to New York." Dean comforts him with a boyish grin. "As soon as we're done, we can get back on the road. Think of it as a detour."

"I'm sure New York will wait for us," the angel assures him, looking amused. Dean doesn't get the silly smile off his face for a good five minutes.

Quite frankly, Sam feels somewhat envious of their unusual relationship, for when he looks past all the pointless denial and insecurity going on, he also realizes that they are _together._ Most days hurting and unhappy, yes, but on the road together nonetheless.

Hunters don't have relationships, period. Oh, some tried, and they all kissed it goodbye in horrible ways. The realization that Sam can never settle down and be completely happy - have a house and a family waiting for him while at the same time running the family business - is more devastating than it should be at this point in the game.

Dean has someone who can travel with them, someone with the power to hold his own when things get ugly and will stand by his side no matter what - most likely for the rest of his life, and quite literally, beyond.

Sam has the possibility of shy flings that will – obviously - lead nowhere and the notion that_ maybe_ somewhere out there a pretty girl hunter exists and will be willing to start a relationship on the road with him.

The other option is solitude. For Sam won't quit the job and no smart, sensible woman will just spend day in and day out all alone, waiting for him to show up every couple of months, wondering if he's okay - if he's even still alive.

Or he could just get himself angel-married - all the cool kids are doing it nowadays, after all. But that is just… _no._

*º*º*

Since Crowley's death there haven't been many demons running amok; at least in the USA, as far as they knew. The hunts are getting scarce - with the exception of the occasional salt and burn, until Sam finds himself bored out of his mind in the backseat of the Impala as Dean complains to Castiel about the nothingness that is Butt Fuck Nowhere, Ohio.

Quite honestly, Sam doesn't know what to do with himself. His days are filled with searching for something to kill and watching his brother slowly screwing up the best thing that has ever happened to him. At times, Dean seems dead set on not enjoying himself at all costs, Castiel himself looking more tired every time he comes back from his business meetings in Heaven.

"Do you want to investigate with us?" Dean proposes. Sam raises an eyebrow, knowing his brother can see him through the rear view mirror. Dean clears his throat, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Last time you were not pleased," Castiel points out. Sam tries not to chuckle – he was told all about it.

"No, but I think your people skills need improving." Dean encourages him with a pat on the shoulder. "You can't just believe everything you see on TV - you gotta walk around, do some people-watching."

Sam can't even try not to smirk. "Let me translate it for you: Dean is being cute 'cause he doesn't want you to be all alone in a motel room while we inv-"

"The conversation hasn't moved to the backseat yet, thanks." Dean sounds nervous for a moment, as he always does at the mention of Those-Things-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named – AKA human emotions. Yet seeing the usual blank expression on Castiel's face, he lets it go. "We can make you a fake FBI ID card," Dean continues, "but _do not_ open your mouth, dude. We do the talking."

"Yes, Dean." Sam sighs as Castiel stares at Dean with his usual 'you-are-my-intended' intensity. Dean lets him, looking every so often to the side to be sure he still has the angel's attention to himself. Friendly Neighborhood Angels: now in the front seat of your car to better stalk you.

Sometimes they make eye contact for long periods of time, laugh and even – somewhat? - snuggle on the couch. Most of the times, though, they _still_ break each other's heart. And Sam's too.

Their little dance around each other is getting old _so_ fast, like watching reruns of the same episodes of Seinfeld every night for two months until you get so annoyed you actually consider taking the first flight to New York and killing someone.

Ah yes, Sam is losing it.

Luckily, he also has a favorite game of his own.

"Cas, don't you get tired of just sitting here all day?" He tries not to smirk just yet, knowing full well what type of answer he'll get.

"At first. However, I discovered that watching Dean drive is quite soothing."

Living is worth it just to watch Dean's ears get red as he mistakes the gears and makes the car jolt.

*º*º*

"Beaten to death. All five of them. Nothing like this ever happened around these parts, let me tell you." The officer designated to assist them gives Sam a thick file. Opening a map on the table, he points at the circles drawn with red ink. "Their camp was here; these markers are where we found each body."

The brothers analyze the map while Castiel looks through the pictures. Now that Sam thinks about it, maybe it could come off as a little weird for three FBI agents to be on the same case. He makes a mental note to ask Bobby later.

"Did they all die in different parts of the woods, or were the bodies moved post mortem?"

The officer extends his hands to Castiel in a silent request for the photos he's holding. The angel tilts his heads, probably trying to remember the appropriate reaction to someone offering you their hand. Sam practically shoves the photos into the officer's hand before Castiel has the chance to shake it and make things awkward for everyone.

If he thinks that was odd, the officer says nothing. "See the blood on the tree trunks?" He shows them a photo of one of the victim's body, blood everywhere around it. "They were killed and left there. The coroner said they were all dead within the same hour."

"That's a long distance between each body," Dean whispers to Sam.

"We think more than one guy did it," the officer overhears them and comments, "with their own hands. Sick bastards."

Dean snorts. "It takes a lot of strength to do _this_ much damage to a man barehanded. 'Specially a man with a gun."

"Sick, _drugged _bastards." He shrugs.

"How come one victim got away?" Sam asks.

"Jake Carper? Completely lost his mind. We committed him to an asylum right away – heard they released him yesterday. Shouldn't have, though. _That_ one is definitely on drugs; I don't care what the blood test says."

*º*º*

Jake Carper doesn't look high, nor show any withdrawal symptoms. Although, he does look scared out of his freaking mind. With hesitant fingers he holds their FBI cards, only letting them in after some deliberation and Sam's sympathetic eyes. His hair is slick like it hasn't been washed in days, sleepless red eyes in contrast with his brown irises.

"I already told the police everything, and they didn't believe me. Can't you people just leave me alone?"

"We know, Mr. Carper." Dean sits on the couch beside Sam. "But we're different from your local police. We need you to tell us what you saw."

The man looks at the brothers' serious stance - complete with little paper notebooks - to Castiel's stiff posture and unnatural blue eyes, staring unblinking at him.

Sam clears his throat. "Were you friends with the victims?"

"Yeah, co-workers. We hunt in that park every year." Jake hugs a thin blanket tightly around his body. "The open season is only in January, but we got a permit for Small Game Hunting – wild turkey, rabbits, that sort of thing-"

"Why?" Castiel asks.

Jake jumps a little at the sudden interruption by such a grave voice coming from a slim man. Sam stops himself from rolling his eyes just in time. "Not now, Cas."

"Why what?"

"Why were you hunting when there are already dead animals at the supermark-"

"I'm sorry about my partner, Mr. Carper," Dean almost shouts over the angel's words. "He's a vegetarian; he doesn't know what he's saying."

Castiel narrows his eyes, ready to deny the silly accusations as Jake mumbles, "What does that got to do-"

"Can you tell us what happened that night, Mr. Carper?" Sam discreetly pinches his brother. Dean gets a clue.

"…Hm, we were camping in a clearing in the woods," he starts. "It was our last night there 'cause we all had already killed something to take home.

"It just… came out of nowhere. Th- this _thing_. It was like a really small man – the size of a boy, only…_ grrr_-" Jakes shudders. "Naked, and his hair was on fucking fire, I swear to God! It jumped Jimmy and started hitting him… over and over again. Greg grabbed it from behind, but it sent him flying – like, ten feet, or something.

"I punched the little fucker and _look_!" Jake takes his arm from under the blanket to show them bruised knuckles. "We tried shooting it too, but nothing happened. No blood or anything." Dean and Sam exchange a concerned look. "How is that even possible?"

"What happened then?" Sam asks softly.

"We ran, what else! It was dark, so I don't know how we got separated. I only stopped running when I got to the road, and I can't even remember finding that ranger – luck, I guess."

"Mr. Carper, why do you think it didn't go after you?"

"… I outran it…?" Jake looks uncertain, but Sam doesn't think he's lying.

"Was there anything else unusual about the attacker?"

"You mean besides his hair being on _fucking fire_?" When the witness starts sounding hysterical, it's time to stop.

Sam nudges his brother in a silent message that they should leave. "Thank you for your t-"

"What were you doing before your group was attacked?" Castiel asks. Dean sends him an ugly look.

"We were cooking- wait, wait!" Jake almost jumps from the couch. "There was this one thing! I can't believe I almost forgot it- The whistles!"

"…Whistles?"

"Like an hour before we got attacked, we kept hearing these sharp whistles coming from the woods. We wanted to go find out who it was, but it was dark and we couldn't figure out what direction it was coming from…

"You guys think there's a connection, right?" Jake gets up and goes straight to the liquor cabinet. "The police didn't believe me. They said we were on drugs, but I swear we weren't! Ju- just look at the exam they made me take!"

"Mr. Carper, sit down, please-" Sam tries, but it's ignored by the agitated man.

Serving himself a shot of whiskey, he downs it in one go. "I mean, what kind of sick bastard keeps whistling over and over before killing people?"

"Calm down-" Dean says, getting up. The brothers freeze when Castiel reaches for Jake.

The angel holds the man's shoulder firmly, confidence and security rolling off him in waves. Instead of freaking out even more, Jake lets out an exhausted sigh and relaxes. Sam feels his own tension leave his shoulders as he watches the angel's soothing presence take over the room.

"Were you the one cooking?" Castiel asks.

Jake looks at him with glassy eyes, almost hypnotized. "Yeah, over a campfire."

"What were you cooking?" Sam tries to think of something to say that will stop the angel from saying any more strange things - yet the warm trust suddenly beating in his chest tells him to let Cas handle this one.

"A rabbit-"

"The one you killed?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." The angel gives him a small, reassuring smile – the one Sam always gives him when Dean's being a particularly unbearable asshole - pressing two fingers to the man's forehead. "You should rest, Jake Carper."

He nods dumbly, and instead of falling to the ground immediately like they are used to seeing happen, he drowsily makes his way to the couch. With a relieved sigh, he closes his eyes and falls asleep, completely forgetting about the alleged FBI agents in his living room.

Dean blinks.

"_What the hell_, Cas!"

*º*º*

"Dude, stop it." Sam tried everything to postpone this fight, at least while they are driving, but Dean has apparently decided he's now immune to car accidents.

"No, Sam, he's gotta understand he can't act like a child! This is a serious investigation." Dean turns to the angel riding shotgun. "You're powerful; we get it. Doesn't mean you get to toy around with people, man!"

Castiel looks more confused then ever, like Dean's odd human reactions have finally worn him down. Although baffled Cas is much better than heartbroken Cas. "I don't understand what you're accusing me of-"

"Why did you mojo that guy?" Dean asks, sounding way angrier than he should be. Sam really wants to punch his brother when he overreacts.

Castiel's now almost dark blue eyes narrow at the question, the angel's presence in the car feeling like it's suffocating Sam, all cells in his body telling him to run for the hills. This is the other end of the spectrum, he thinks, a huge difference from the protective love he felt only moments ago – the sentence _he's on our side, he's on our side _repeats itself like a mantra in his head.

"I did no such a thing. Jake Carper had not slept in several days. I gave him the means to have a peaceful sleep - you could say I merely suggested him to rest. If he was not inclined to do so, he wouldn't have." Castiel doesn't blink as he says this, head held high and not a hint of regret in his voice. "Now, if you would stop your temper tantrum, I'd be happy to inform you of what supernatural creature we are dealing with."

"You know?" two flabbergasted Winchesters ask. When had _that _happened?

"Yes," Cas confirms. "You weren't asking the right questions."

Dean is gaping at him like this is unprecedented. "You don't get to tell us how to do our jobs! Jesus, I'm fucking tired of this crap-"

Vaguely, Sam remembers someone telling him in high school that the quiet kids are all bound to snap one day, seeing as they bottle things up and downplay their right to show emotions. At the time he thought it was a mean thing to say – like Sam was doing something wrong when he went to sleep fuming after a fight with John, all the things he wanted to scream caught in his throat because saying them would upset his father even more.

Now he thinks he understands what they meant.

Sam snaps. It's either that or smashing his head through the car window glass.

"_What the Hell_ is your problem, Dean?" His brother forgets whatever he was about to say at the powerful image that is Sam punching the back of Castiel's seat, the entire car bouncing around dangerously. Even the angel looks startled at him, and Sam can only imagine the – ridiculous – image he presents right now, with his face red and his floppy hair flying all over his eyes. "_Pull. Over."_

Dean doesn't dare disagree. The next moment the car is stopping, and his brother is turning around to look at him like Sam is this crazy guy with the physic power to shut him up and leave their angel speechless. The silence only makes him feel crazier, as if accusing him of violating the natural order that is Dean and Cas being dumbasses around each other.

Sam has to remind himself that, yes, right, nuclear meltdown going on.

"You know that's not what he meant! Why are you acting like an asshole all the freaking time?" Somewhere in his mind, a voice that sounds like his own is singsonging _dude, you totally lost_ _it._

"H- he put our covers at risk!" Dean looks at his angel for support, only to remember that _oh, right._ "If that guy wakes up and calls the sheriff about creepy FBI agents asking weird-ass questions and they start to do some digging, we're gonna have to bail out of town-"

"When he wakes up, we'll be long gone," Cas calmly informs him. "I already told you I know what attacked those hunters."

Dean opens his mouth to answer back, but surprisingly, nothing comes out. The angel looks between his hands and the hunter, aborting a few attempts at reaching for him. In the end, they fail once more at establishing contact between each other and look at Sam instead.

Turns out snapping takes a lot of energy, leaving you feeling like shit after the initial adrenaline wears off.

"… Tell us what you know." Sam slumps back against his seat. Dean sighs, nodding in agreement.

Castiel is looking at them like he can't believe they are just going to pretend nothing happened. Well, duh.

"…So, Cas?" The older hunter raises an eyebrow.

"Do you really wish me to tell you, Dean?" Castiel asks, voice like ice sliding down their spines. "After all, I don't want to intrude on your work, even if you were the one who invited me in the first place."

"This is how it's gonna be, huh?" Dean's voice sounds deeper, rougher – when it gets like this, Sam is never sure if he's holding back his heartbreak or trying to control his anger. "Well, congratulations, Castiel. You were right, I was wrong – _there_. Does that make you feel good?"

Somehow, it doesn't feel like they're talking about what happened just ten minutes ago.

"Were I not here, it'd take days, maybe weeks, for you to understand what you're up against because you were _not asking the right questions_. Since I asked them for you, we get to prevent more unnecessary deaths," a tired Castiel explains. He sighs. "I did not do it to spite you. I did it because I love humanity, and I don't want it to suffer."

Dean doesn't know what to say to that, so Sam mouths the words 'apologize' and 'now'.

It figures they're all too stubborn to say anything else. It feels like an eternity filled up with silence inside the Impala, only the sounds of cars passing by on the road reminding them there's more to the world than petty hissy fits. They didn't survive an apocalypse for this shit.

"Cas-" Dean murmurs, "sorry, dude."

Castiel just stares at his lap, and Sam looks down to find Dean loosely holding a pale wrist in his hand. Just keeping it there, linking them together.

Sam has to control himself not to jump to the front seat and group hug them.

"It's a Curupira," the angel answers.

Dean scratches his head. "A what of what?"

"Curupira. It's an entity of the Tupi-Guarani mythology in Brazil."

Well… Okay. That's unusual.

"Brazil? That's like-" Looking at the car's ceiling, Dean is probably accessing his internal map to come to the conclusion that, "It's far."

"It protects the forests and animals from hunters who don't respect nature," he continues, "the ones who hunt breeding females or kill more than they need to survive."

"So, Jake Carper…?"

"Eating what he hunted," Sam answers instead of Cas. It makes sense. It's not that he ran for his life; the creature was never set on killing him. Sam shudders remembering the description they were given. "And the fire-hair thing?"

"It is exactly what it suggests. Its feet are turned backwards to deceive trackers. It whistles, plays tricks to lure them into the woods until the evildoers get lost and can't ever find their way out."

"This Curu-yada-yada is a long way from home," Dean informs them quite pointlessly.

"I believe it was summoned here; it cannot just walk out of its own woods. This creature isn't violent by nature. It's attacking because it's probably confused. 'Freaking out'," Cas tastes the words. "It's possible it doesn't know how to go back to its forest."

Sam frowns. "Who summoned it, then?"

"I do not know. There are a couple of summoning spells that should be powerful enough."

"More importantly - how do we gank it?"

"I… do not know." The angel looks apologetically at the floor, like it isn't awesome enough that they already know what they're fighting against fifteen minutes into the first period of the game.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Great-"

"That's awesome, Cas." Sam's louder than necessary voice makes Dean realize he should probably leave angels and younger brothers alone for the day. "We'll do some research when we get to the hotel, find out how to kill this thing." His huge hand covers Castiel's shoulder, and it's okay to have this contact, this comfort, because no one pulls away and Dean doesn't say anything. "You did well. Thanks a bunch."

"It is an entity needed elsewhere," Castiel explains. "Rather than kill it, I find it would be wiser to send it back where it belongs. If we can draw it out from its hiding place, I might be able to help it."

Dean doesn't look too pleased about letting something that powerful live, but he doesn't offer any other ideas. As he puts the car in first gear he doesn't let go of the angel's hand, holding it between his own and the gearstick.

"…" Cas takes a moment to contemplate this gesture as the scientific development it is. Sam can imagine angels in lab coats taking notes. Relaxing in his seat, blue eyes meet his own in the mirror. "You're welcome, Sam."

*º*º*

In order to fulfill their latest stupid plan, they have to make a stop on the way to the motel to get their hands on some axes. Although Cas had guaranteed the Curupira wouldn't attack the locals who frequent the woods, they decide not to put that theory to test – after all, it's not suppose to beat people to death, _period_.

Aside from variations of the same story, everything Cas said checks out. A premier research on Google results in drawings of an ugly boy with red hair and turned feet facing backwards.

Most sources state only the natives living in the indigenous reserves still believe it exists, while everyone else uses its myth as a child-friendly night time story. Indeed, it looks a somewhat silly creature wearing leaves around its waist, but Sam knows better than to take seriously the general opinion on supernatural creatures – his mind goes immediately to 'Twilight'. In this world, vampires are bloodthirsty fuckers, not love sick teenagers, no matter how much Stephenie Meyer wants them to be.

After Dean is done preparing their guns – they figure they'll at least slow it down – Castiel zaps them via Air Angel to the middle of a clearing, seeing as it would take hours to drive from their hotel to the area where the hunters were attacked.

Night falls over the forest, painting the trees with the icy blue shadows of winter. Maybe it's the silence, but Sam is suddenly very aware of the natural beauty happening around him.

"Right, so-" Dean turns on his flashlight while trying to adjust the hold on his axe. "We split up. You see the fucker, you call Cas immediately, you hear me, Sammy?"

Sam smiles – thank God some things never change. "Yes, captain."

"Good. And stay away from the roads," he adds before Cas wraps long fingers around his wrist and takes them away.

He ventures into the woods slowly. Choosing a tree at random – one with a thick trunk that will take time to chop down - he hangs the flashlight on a belt loop and rests his gun by the nearest tree. He begins by striking the trunk at a 45 degree angle from the top. After a few times, he changes the angle to 45 from the bottom.

In five minutes he's already bored out of his skull, the threat of imminent danger far away from his mind. If this plan doesn't work they'll probably have to come back the next day to hunt something, which is not the best idea. The chances of getting caught by the rangers are not as low as they would like, and who knows how long it would take to get a permit.

When a powerful blow to his side sends him flying to the ground, he even forgets for a moment what they are hunting and that this is probably it. He doesn't have to look to know his left arm is fractured and his right leg hurt from landing on top of a huge root.

Childish cartons of boys with red-hair and leaves around their waists have nothing on the real thing. It is wrath personified, Sam thinks, naked and atrocious. The fire atop its head burns furiously, expelling blazes almost four feet long, illuminating everything around it.

The Curupira is mad. It's staring at him, and Sam is more scared than he has been in a long time.

Sam tells his body to get up, call Cas, do something other than just half-lay there. His axe is lost somewhere, his gun is nowhere in sight, and he's just staring at the thing that's set on killing him. He doesn't have to fight it, just pray to Cas; that's the plan - open his mouth and just fucking say the name… Yet his lips _don't part_.

_Please, ow God, Cas! Help me, help me, _no_-_

The next blow never comes. The creature looks around itself as if confused, not being able to move.

Warm breath hits the skin behind Sam's ear, perfect against the cold and the pain all over his body.

A voice, so familiar it almost hurts not to remember to whom it belongs, whispers like a lover murmuring in the dark, "Close your eyes, Sammy-boy."

And he automatically does, without asking, 'who, what, _who_' - trained to just do it when he hears the command. White light explodes behind his eyelids, and he knows nothing more.

*º*º*

Sam can feel the fires of Hell burning below him, waiting for him to make a mistake, to grab a false ledge and slip. His fingers hurt, nails bleeding from clutching at the rocks –he knows the cliff is endless, there's no top when he looks up, but he can't stop climbing. If he falls, it's over.

He doesn't remember how he got here, why he is doing this, who he is supposed to call for help. Thoughts and feelings collide with each other, crashing inside him, melting into a mess of incoherence he can't escape from.

"Help me…" Feeling powerless, he prays weakly but knows no one will come.

Faintly he realizes he's dreaming. Nevertheless, the fear suffocating him and the heat coming from below feel too real, threatening. And maybe it had been all real once – maybe at some point in time the fire really burned his skin, this fear the only thing his soul was capable of feeling.

A distant noise catches his attention. The muffled sound of trumpeting comes from far away, completely out of place in this dark nightmare. Sam turns his head to look behind him, being careful not to look down, and sees it. A herd of African elephants coming his way – trumpeting, growling, and rumbling.

Flying elephants.

Throwing water from their trunks.

At the Abysm.

…

What.

The.

_Fuck._

Suddenly, Sam notices how absurd it is to be climbing a cliff with no summit, winged elephants behind him flying in circles trying to extinguish _Hellfire_.

He feels lucid again, entire sentences forming themselves correctly in his head, his thoughts untangling from each other - like watching Dean unlace the tight knot his five-year-old self once made with his shoelaces.

Reaching for the next rock, his hand finds level ground he can only assume is the top of the cliff. Sam looks up, and the shock of what he sees almost makes him lose his balance and fall.

"Hey there!" Gabriel smirks from above. "Having fun?"

"_Gabriel?"_ It is now official. Sam has gone batshit insane.

Flying elephants he can stomach, but pocket-size archangels who love messing around with his sanity are an entirely different problem.

Sam quickly gets to his feet. "Are you responsible for this?"

He snorts. "Oh, I've got nothing to do with your dreams, buddy. This is all on you and your twisted little mind."

"Then I really am dreaming…" he murmurs, looking down at the darkness of the Abyss, now with almost no flames or heat emanating from it.

"Pff, you'd think so, unless flying elephants are a common occurrence where you come from?"

"And I suppose you're real too?" He analyzes the archangel with suspicion.

"Want to find out just how much?" Gabriel raises his eyebrows suggestively.

The sudden heat spreading across his face is_ so_ not a good sign. Not many things can make him blush like this – nowadays the honor is reserved for Dean and Cas making him uncomfortable. "Hm, I'm fine, thanks."

All he gets in response is a mischievous smile he remembers very well from his past encounters with the Trickster. The hunter looks to the side trying to think of a change of subject.

"And this?" Sam points to the herd of elephants in the distance.

"Now_ this_ is on me. I can't change what you're dreaming, so I'm just tuning it down a little bit." He begins to walk and makes a gesture for Sam to follow.

Gabriel looks the same. Same size, same hair, same attitude. His eyebrows are still expressive, the light stubble on his chin and under his nose hasn't grown an inch, his head moving in different angles and directions as he talks, hazel eyes catching the light in a certain way that makes them look almost green but not quite-

_O-kay,_ and Sam is going stop now.

"Why are you here?" he asks, looking around to see that 'here' is actually a rocky wasteland that stretches out continuously, nothing coming up on the horizon.

"You were crying for help, and for some reason your prayers are coming directly to my inbox lately," the angel tells him.

"What does that mean? This happened before?" No, Sam would definitely remember snooty archangels messing around in his head.

"Oh, yeah," Gabriel beams his usual cheerful smile, "it's how I woke up from the dead actually."

Sam waits for him to continue, but the angel just keeps on smiling at him like that just answered it.

"… Would you like to elaborate?" He sighs, a little annoyed.

"I remember dying, alright – not really my plan for a Saturday evening; dying is more of a Thursday thing. I also remember not existing, if that makes any sense to you." Gabriel crosses his arms, looking puzzled himself. "But next thing I know, I'm opening my eyes again, just like that." He snaps his fingers. Sam tries not to flinch. "I heard your crying and whining for God to send someone to help lil' ol' Cassie, so I ran to the rescue."

Sam just stares, not knowing what to say.

"Well, voila!" Gabriel waggles his hands like he just performed a magic trick and is now waiting for the applause. "You're welcome, by the way."

His throat feels suddenly very dry. Sam doesn't know what to make of the possibility that God not only gives a damn, but that his praying actually made a difference. "So- so, God was listening?"

"Yeah, he's a sucker for kicked puppies apparently." Gabriel shrugs.

"Do you think he brought you back because I prayed?"

Gabriel tucks his hands in his pockets and looks away too casually to be natural. Sam can tell he also suspects that's the case - if so, how is the hunter supposed to act around him? Should he say, 'I'm glad my praying incidentally brought you back to life'?

"Anyways, looks like lately you have your hands full with our brothers," Gabriel, not smoothly at all, offers as a change of subject.

"How do you-" Sam narrows his eyes in what Dean likes to call 'Bitch Face No. 17: I'm on to You'. "Have you been watching us?"

"Ow, please!" He makes a dismissive hand gesture. "I got a Heaven to take care of. Do you think I've got the time to watch you Winchesters getting your asses handed to you by weird Brazilian folklore?"

Gabriel smirks over his shoulder.

Sam gapes, just realizing the obvious. "_You_ saved me from that thing?"

"You asked for help. Don't you remember?"

What Sam does remember is thinking the voice whispering in his ear sounded like a lover in the dark or some such nonsense. How he could think a voice that mocked everyone and their moms could pose as something so intimate is beyond him.

"What happened to the-" he pauses; flashes of the night start appearing to him as he tries to remember, "Curupira?"

"Back where it's supposed to be. I could have killed it, but I'm eco-friendly now." Gabriel gives him a thumbs up like he's in some sort of commercial with the tagline on the bottom of the screen reading, 'I support this cause'.

This angel had saved him. When he was powerless and frightened for no reason other than his own utter stupidity, this was the one who came for him. "Gabriel… thanks."

Gabriel looks almost scandalized at the honest display of gratitude. "Samuel, please! Don't start crying, or I'll actually feel embarrassed for you."

Sam doesn't know what to do with himself here. Should he make more conversation? Ask how's tricks and fear the answer? The brothers wonder often about the situation upstairs with their natural curiosity for all things dangerous and supernatural, but never approached the topic again after the first two times when Cas only said, 'Gabriel is… handling it.'

"Don't sweat it," Gabriel reassures him. "Like I said, I don't have time to watch every second of your mortal, boring life. So you don't have to worry about me going all stalker on you."

There's a pause.

"Besides, I only watch while you shower." Gabriel grins, and it's terrible because _it might be true._

Sam finds out you don't need to be drinking something in order to choke. Saliva will do just fine.

Gabriel's laughter seems to fill up the void of the landscape.

*º*º*

"Where are we going, by the way?" Sam asks what feels like thirty minutes into the dream but probably isn't in real life.

"No where in particular," Gabriel answers and leaves it at that.

They walk and trade a few words in a comfortable silence, Sam's legs never getting tired. The view is always the same and yet, somehow, he couldn't bring himself to be bored. Wandering along side an archangel is too surreal to make anything about it look tedious.

Sam wonders if they found his unconscious body yet, and if they did, why hadn't they woken him up already. Not that he minds walking like this some more, no urgent worries in his mind. "When are you going to let Cas go?"

"Oh, what it this, I don't even-" Gabriel's nose frowns a little together with his eyebrows. Sam chuckles even though there's nothing funny about that. "_I'm_ the bad guy now? For your information, I was the one who insisted he get married to his human pet and spend the rest of his life – well, Dean's – behind a stove wearing a 'soccer mom' apron."

"… That's honestly what you think married people do, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head disapprovingly.

"Am I wrong?" The angel huffs, like the very idea is beneath him. "Anyway, I tried, but my baby bro is too much of a martyr to just let me run things on my own. If you think about it, he's a true Winchester now!"

Sam smiles at that. It was almost the exact same thing he had said to Castiel himself. About doing stupid shit to be a member of the family.

"He's feeling guilty. That's what you get for hanging around humans…" Gabriel murmurs, gazing at the horizon.

Sam raises his eyebrows. "Why, are you feeling guilty too, Gabriel? Speaking from experience there?" Heh, Sam suspected there was a reason for the angel to come to his rescue and then hang around afterwards, even though it had already been stated he had much better things to do in Heaven. "Anything you want to share? Is that why you're still here?"

"Fine - despite what you might think, Gigantor, I didn't get my rocks off watching you suffer." Gabriel sighs, trying to sound nonchalant and failing. They both know what he's talking about – it's something Sam will never forget. "I was trying to teach you a lesson, but maybe, just _maybe_, I went about it the wrong way." He rolls his eyes, probably not used to admitting he regrets his actions. "I see that now."

That was… surprisingly deep. The hunter had no idea somewhere out there Gabriel felt something akin to guilt for what he did all those years ago. Hell, before this conversation, Sam would swear up and down that the Trickster didn't even remember that particular occasion out of his many pranks throughout the centuries.

"Of course, not that I was _wrong_, mind you! I just wasn't _exactly _right," the angel feels the need to add.

Sam abruptly realizes he never thanked him for sacrificing himself for them in that motel, never had the chance. Dean had only told him the entire story later, about the angel thinking of those gods as his family.

"What, why are you looking at me like that?" Gabriel looks around as if searching for whatever reason Sam is suddenly making puppy eyes at him.

"My brother told me about the conversation you guys had in that car." Sam sighs, "You care, Gabriel-"

"Oh, boy-" The angel rubs a hand on his forehead.

"I'm serious! Those pagan Gods, they were like, your family, right? I'm sorry they died." And he means it. Gabriel stood up for almost total strangers, going against his own brother for them. Sam doesn't want to think what he would do in his place if he had to kill Dean to save someone else.

"Sam…" Gabriel laughs like he's actually embarrassed to be hearing this. Embarrassment is not something the hunter thought him capable of. "Okay, you big care bear, you. Thanks for making this dream sequence not awkward at all."

*º*º*

"Hm?" Gabriel stops and looks up behind his shoulders like he just heard something.

"What? What is it?" Sam follows his gaze. There's only sky as far as he can see.

"Your brother is about to wake you up," he says, turning to the hunter. "Well, this was pleasant… hm, _not_."

Sam smiles sheepishly. "Thanks again."

"…" Gabriel shrugs. He takes a button of his jacket between his fingers and adjusts it, as if it was in the wrong position before. "Anytime." He shrugs like it's nothing.

"Am I going to see you again?" Sam finally asks. What the Hell, right, maybe there's a reason this particular angel keeps receiving his prayers.

"Sure thing. You guys are total dumbasses sometimes; I've got no idea how you survived this long without me." Gabriel fixes his eyes somewhere on Sam's cheek. He clears his throat. "Do you want to?"

"I think so."

"Just pray for me. Like, think of my name before you go to sleep; I'll definitely hear it," Gabriel says, and it sounds like a promise to Sam.

"Okay," the hunter agrees.

The angel smirks, hazel eyes finally meeting his own. "And be sure to do it while you shower too."

Sam chokes. "_Gabr-_"

And wakes up.

*º*º*


End file.
